


Ocean of Ships

by ghostellie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: All the Countries | Nations (Hetalia), F/F, F/M, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, No Smut, Non-Explicit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23981344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostellie/pseuds/ghostellie
Summary: Drabbles/short oneshots for different crack pairings and rare pairs in the Hetalia fandom.Found on Fanfiction.net under the same name.
Relationships: I might do it later though idk, Pretty much any non mainstream ship, Too lazy to tag all of them - Relationship
Kudos: 10





	1. SpaSeb - Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spain x Seborga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this OOS thing on FF.net a couple months ago, and only just now got along to posting it on here.
> 
> Hope y’all enjoy my shitty writing.
> 
> Disclaimer: I obviously don’t own Hetalia.

“Go away you bastard!”

Spain frowned, giving a disheartened sigh. He didn’t understand why Romano was so mean to him; all he had wanted was to ask if he and Veneziano wanted to go to lunch with him and Portugal. Instead, what he got was a smack on the head with an Italian magazine, and a few select curses. Sprain sighed; he just didn’t see why Romano had to be so standoffish all the time!

Just as Spain turned to head to the door, planning on leaving the Meeting Room, a light voice spoke up from behind him

“Don’t listen to him, _Spagna_ , he’s just being grumpy.” A soft, Italian-accented voice reached his ears. “ _Mio fratello maggiore_ is always grumpy, though, isn’t he?”

Turning around, Spain was met by a cheerful smile, hair redder than Veneziano’s, and bright green eyes. It took a minute, maybe two, but Spain eventually recognized him as Seborga, an Italian micronation.

When he looked past Seborga, he saw a group of micronations whispering to each other and looking back and forth in their direction, and merely shrugged it off as ‘kids being kids.’ When Spain glanced to him again, Seborga’s smile had faltered slightly, and Spain quickly realized he hadn’t yet replied. 

“ _Si._ That’s just how Lovi is.” Spain smiled, and Seborga seemed to brighten up a bit. “ _Gracias,_ Seborga.”

His gratitude was genuine. Spain did feel a bit grateful to Seborga for trying to cheer him up. Though he’d never talked much to the youngest Italian, he did know that the micronation was very friendly and a lot more extroverted than either of his brothers.

Seborga seemed to be in a daze for a couple of seconds before he blinked. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He hadn’t really expected Spain to remember his name (no on ever did, with the exception of his friends and family). 

As Seborga mulled this over, Spain watched him with a keen smile. He was curious, he had to admit, and wanted to learn more about Seborga. Well, he had nothing to lose, right?

“Say, Seborga, would you like to grab lunch with Portugal and I?” 

Seborga blinked, his cheeks flushing. He glanced to the ground, then to the side, then back at Spain, his green eyes wide. “ _Sicuro!_ I mean, sure!”

Spain laughed at the Italian, reaching forward and ruffling his hair. Call him crazy, but he had a good feeling about Seborga.


	2. BelMex - Airports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belgium x Mexico

Belgium, to say the least, was ecstatic, if not a bit tired.

She found herself in an uncomfortable seat between her brothers, her head resting on Netherlands shoulder as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Even though her back hurt and her eyes drooped, she couldn’t deny the fluttering in her stomach and how her heart jumped as Luxembourg gently shook her awake.

The Benelux trio were at a Canadian airport, waiting for said nation to come pick them up. It was time for the Canadian tulip festival, and their small group of nations were having their annual meet-up. The North American siblings and the Benelux siblings did’t have all that much in common, and this festival was the only real time they all got together.

As they all piled into Canada’s rental car (which was pretty big so that it could fit the small hoard of nations), a pair of arms wrapped around Belgium’s waist. 

A pair of lips brushed hers, and dotted a kiss against her nose. “ _Hola_ , Emma,” A soft voice murmured in her ear.

Belgium hummed warmly, her cheeks pink and her head buzzing. Her heart leapt as she leaned into her lover’s arms, nuzzling her face into Mexico’s neck.

“I missed you, Rosa.” She whispered in reply.

The two female nations stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms the entire ride back to Canada’s house, where they then went up to one of the guest rooms together.

From the kitchen, two sets of eyes followed them as they disappeared up the steps. “I have a feeling,” Canada started softly, “That I’m going to have quite a few sheets to clean tomorrow.”

Netherlands deep laugh sent shivers down the shorter man’s spine as the Dutchman wrapped his arms around him. They stood there for the longest time, watching as America and Luxembourg quickly hopped up the stairs together, Molossia following not long after.

Later that night, when Canada went downstairs to grab a glass of water, he couldn’t help but peek into one of the guest rooms.

Sure enough, on the bed, Mexico and Belgium lay curled together in a mess of tangled limbs, discarded clothing and crumpled bedsheets.


	3. IceInd - Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iceland x India

Denmark was the worst place to be in the winter, India decided. Internally, he cursed whoever had thought it’d be a good place to hold a World Meeting in the middle of December.

India was a warm nation, he was used to the heat. He didn’t own any winter jackets or thick coats, which was how he found himself in his current predicament.

The temperature was a freezing 44° Fahrenheit, and the only thing India was wearing for protection was a rather thin black jacket. His hair was disheveled from the slight wind, and his cheeks were unusually pink.

For those of you who’ve never met him, on most days India was a rather pleasant country to be around. This, however, was not ‘most days’.

He walked down the street by himself, looking for a café or restaurant to eat at. He wasn’t too worried about being late for the rest of the meeting, since the lunch break didn’t end for another hour and a half, but he was rather eager to get out of the cold.

As he turned a corner, he bumped into someone, sending the other person staggering backwards.

Eyes wide, India jumped forwards and instinctively grabbed onto the boy’s arm, carefully pulling him back to his feet.

“Sorry,” India apologized, giving a half-hearted smile. “I didn’t see you coming.”

Iceland, regaining his balance, blinked up at India. “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.”

India paused, staring down at the slightly shorter nation. He looked vaguely familiar, what with the light hair and violet eyes...

“Oh! You’re Iceland, right?“ India exclaimed out of the blue, making the shorter nation jump slightly. India had heard quite a bit about the boy from Hong Kong, and had seen them together on numerous occasions, though they’d never officially met.

“Yeah.” Iceland replied blankly. He narrowed his eyes slightly, giving India a once-over. “And you’re India. You’re related to Leon.”

“Yep.” India replied blandly. He gazed at the shorter nation for only a few seconds, before giving him a curt nod. With that, he stepped around Iceland and kept on down the street.

By this point, he could barely feel his fingers, and he was shivering quite violently.

“Wait!” A voice cried out behind him, and Iceland reappeared, one of his thin gloved hands grasping at India’s bicep.

India stopped, eyebrows shooting up. He regarded the shorter nation curiously. Whatever could the young Nordic want now?

Iceland’s cheeks were blazing red as he shifted from foot to foot. Before India knew what was happening, a bundle was shoved unceremoniously into his arms.

“Put it on,” Iceland huffed, his gaze never leaving the ground. “You’re shaking more than the Baltics do when in the same room as Russia!”

India’s cheeks warmed, and he was sure they were turning as red as Iceland’s. “Are you sure?” He asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” Iceland said. “I’m used to the cold, I don’t need it.

India smiled warmly, and couldn’t help but sigh happily as the warmth of the large coat enveloped him.

“Would you like to join me for lunch?” 

Iceland’s eyes widened, and he finally looked up. “Uh- oh, yeah, sure.“

India laughed. Wordlessly, he ruffled Iceland’s hair in the same manner he often did to Hong Kong, and started to chatter on happily.

As Iceland listened to the older man, he couldn’t help but to notice the warm, unfamiliar feeling coiling in his chest...


	4. CanScot - It’s A Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canada x Scotland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like this chapter much. There’s implied sex in this chapter, though of course it’s nothing explicit.

Canada slammed back into the door, his arms immediately going to wrap around the taller man’s neck. He moaned into the kiss, desperately pulling Scotland closer to him.

Scotland pulled away from the kiss. He licked his lips, and cupped Matthew’s face in his hands. “Shh, quiet, laddie.” He murmured lowly, thoroughly enjoying the way Canada shivered. “Ye don’t want ‘em to hear, do ya?”

Matthew, his cheeks burning red, shook his head. 

The two of them had been together for quite some time now. The only problem was it was a secret. They both knew that England and France would only cause trouble if they ever found out. The only other nations who knew were Wales and Ireland, both of whom had found it wildly amusing when they figured it out. Although after their laughing had died down, they’d taken to threatening to castrate Scotland if he hurt Canada.

Canada found _that_ hilarious. Scotland did not.

“Ah, Matthew, my boy.” An English-accented voice called from the other side of the door, making both nations inside freeze. “Have you seen Alistair by any chance?”

The corners of Canada’s lips twisted upwards, and he grinned slyly up at Scotland.

“No.” He called back softly, tracing his fingers up Scotland’s bare chest. “I can’t say I have. Sorry, eh.”

The two nations heard England sigh, then his footsteps faded down the hallway.

As soon as they were alone again, Scotland chuckled deeply, his chest vibrating against Matthews fingers.

Matthew couldn’t help but to let out a small yelp as he was unceremoniously pulled from the door and tossed onto the bed. “Really?” The Canadian asked as Scotland got on top of him, straddling his thighs. “Ready for round two already?”

“Ye know it.” Alistair grinned, dipping down and pulling the smaller nation into another heated kiss.

**_Meanwhile, In the Kitchen..._ **

“Now that I think about it,” Australia started, from his spot leaning against the island, “I haven’t seen Mattie or Uncle Ali in a while. What about you mate?”

New Zealand sighed, shaking his head at the Aussie. “Neither have I.”

At that moment, the two Oceanic nations heard something from the staircase. They both froze, looking around for the source of the noise.

Wordlessly, Australia moved towards the stairs and motioned for New Zealand to follow. As the reached the top of the staircase, they heard a low voice.

Australia’s eyes widened, and his cheeks turned a dull red. That was Scotland’s voice. Coming from _Canada’s room_.

“Aye, laddie, I love it when ye...”

New Zealand’s jaw dropped, and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “What the hell?” he hissed, twisting around to face the wide-eyed Australia.

“Stop.” Matthew panted from the other side of the door, “Don’ tease me like that, you ass.”

Both of the Oceanic nations, red-faced and shocked beyond belief, quickly fled the scene. They stumbled back downstairs and went right back to kitchen.

“This.” Australia started slowly, “Never happened. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Never happened.” New Zealand muttered, still wide-eyed.

Whoever would have thought that their shy, quiet older brother Matthew and their rough, aggressive old uncle Alistair could ever...

Australia shivered at the thought, and coughed into his glove.

Later that night, both nations came downstairs with damp her and different clothes to watch a movie with the rest of the family. As they sat down on opposite sides of the couch, neither Australia nor New Zealand could look them in the eyes.


	5. SeyCub - Birthday Candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seychelles x Cuba

_May 20th, Victoria, Seychelles._

Carlos and Michelle waved goodbye to their guests as they slowly trickled out the apartment door.

Camille was the last to go. Just before she left she stopped to wave Michelle over. The two of them laughed about something, whispering amongst themselves. They shared one last hug, and then Camille left, stopping to tell Carlos goodbye on her way out.

Now that they were - _finally_ \- alone, Seychelles danced over to Carlos. She gave him a light grin, her eyes mischievous as she pulled him towards the kitchen.

Smoke drifted through the air and out the window as Carlos blew out the candles on the cake, leaving behind the scent of melted wax. 

The cake was messy, and covered in a array of icing and and sprinkles. Michelle had never been the best at cooking, but she _had_ tried her best, hadn’t she? 

Michelle gave a bright smile, standing up on her tiptoes so she could toss her arms around Carlos’s neck. “Happy Birthday, _mon cher_.”

It wasn’t long before the candles were in the trash, and what was left of the cake had been set in the fridge.

Not soon after, the two Nations settled out on the balcony with two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. Carlos sat with his back against the sliding door, Michelle held against his chest. Warmth radiated off of her skin, and Carlos breathed in the scent of her cherry shampoo. 

Carlos was sure he could stay there forever, wrapped up in his own universe, with just himself and Michelle. The waves rolling in the distance, and the smell of salt faint in the air, the two of them stayed there for what felt like hours, all the while whispering sweet nothings amidst the silence.

“Thank you,” Carlos murmured against her hair, “For everything.”

Absentmindedly tracing her fingers across his arm, Michelle gave a light laugh. “I love you too, Carlos.” Softer this time, to herself, “More than you could ever know.”


	6. UkrEng - Roses & Unrequited Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England x Ukraine
> 
> Highschool AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for reference as to who some of the other characters mentioned in this chapter are:
> 
> Elizaveta is, of course, Hungary  
> Camille is Monaco  
> Emma is Belgium  
> Sierra is Greenland  
> Aurora is Northern Ireland  
> Mei is Taiwan  
> Lovina is just Nyo!Romano

When Valentines day rolled around, Katyusha found herself standing in a grocery store, gazing at the assortment of flowers they had in the produce section.

She picked out a bouquet of roses, along with a couple of lone roses, and went to pay for it at the cash register. After that, she went home.

Natalya tilted her head like a puppy when she was handed the rose. She lifted it to her nose, smelled it, and blinked. She looked up at Katyusha and gave the smallest hint of a smile. “Thank you, _сястра_.”

Next was Ivan. He carefully laid the flower on the table next to him, and pulled his older sister into a hug, his grip tight as if he was trying to squeeze the life out of her.

Later that morning, Katyusha went to school with the remaining roses in hand. She greeted Elizaveta, Camille, Emma, Mei, Sierra, Aurora and handed each of them a rose, as she did every year. Each girl responded with bright smiles, quiet thank you’s, and hugs.

When lunch time came, Katyusha snuck off from the cafeteria to find the person she had been dying to see all day.

She wandered the halls, peeking around corners and into classrooms in the hopes of finding him. It took her a while, but as she approached the library, she heard voices. Eyes lighting up, she walked just a little faster down the hall. 

“Did you finish the homework?” One voice said.

A British-accented voice replied, “I didn’t ask you here just to talk about homework, love.”

“Arthur!” Katyusha called out happily as she stepped into the library, her eyes immediately finding the Englishman and—

Katyusha froze. Arthur stood with his back to her, half obscured by a bookshelf. Even so, it was obvious what he was doing. He had one hand against the wall next to her head, the other resting on her hip. He kissed down her neck, leaving a trail of hickeys and bite marks behind.

Over his shoulder, Lovina looked at Katyusha, and she smirked. A smirk as if she knew something that Katyusha didn’t; or, more likely, as if she _had_ something that Katyusha didn’t.

Katyusha stepped back, and pressed herself against the wall just outside of the library doors, where Lovina couldn’t stare at her. She dropped the roses onto the ground, and slid down to sit on the floor. A quiet sob slipped past her lips, and she covered her mouth with her hands. Tears dripped from her eyes and onto the floor. Not wanting for anyone to see or hear her cry — least of all Arthur or Lovina — she stood up, and raced past the library and to the nearest bathroom. On accident, she stepped on the roses as she went.

Arthur stopped what he was doing, and pulled away from Lovina, making the Italian girl huff, a pout on her face. He looked behind him, to the library doors. “Did you hear that?” He asked. He stepped back from Lovina, and started to walk to the doors.

“I didn’t hear a thing. Come back, before we run out of time and have to go back to class.”

Arthur didn’t listen to her though. When he got out to the hallway, he saw a crushed bouquet of roses laying on the ground, the petals scattered about and imprinted with shoe marks. He leaned down, and pulled at the small card tied to the stems. When he read the inside, he felt his whole body freeze.

_‘Happy Valentines! Love, Kat’_

Arthur stood frozen, his body rigid and eyes wide as he mind worked to realize what this meant. He couldn’t help but to curse himself when he realized the mistake he had made.


	7. ScotWal - Fever Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scotland x Wales
> 
> Human AU

When Alistair got home, he found that all the lights were off and the apartment was completely silent.

Curiously, he went to the living room in search of his boyfriend, and found him curled up on the couch underneath a thin blanket.

“Will?” He called out. When he stepped closer, he could see that Will was shivering quite violently beneath the blanket on top of him. He crouched down next to his half-conscious boyfriend, and immediately felt his forehead for a a fever.

As he did so, Will opened his eyes. He stared up at Alistair through a window of tears. His head hurt, and the room was spinning. The figure leaning over him was blurry, but the bright red hair was obvious enough. “Ali,” he coughed out, reaching to grab at Alistair shirt.

Alistair stared at him, wide-eyed and worried. “Why didn’t ya call me? Tell me that ye were sick?” He asked, his voice soft. “I should’ve been here to take care of ye!”

Will mumbled something in response, but Alistair wasn’t quite listening. He rushed off towards the bedroom, and came back a minute later with a pile of folded blankets. He tossed each one over him, and tucked him in like a mother would a child. By the time he was done, Will was barely visible underneath the six blankets on top of him.

Alistair left him alone and set about making some food. He dumped a can of chicken noodle soup into a bowl and heated it up in the microwave, and got some crackers out of the cabinet. He contemplated making some ginger tea, but decided against it.

Alistair hated seeing Will sick, but at the same time, he _did_ enjoy taking care of him.

Two hours later, Alistair was laying on his side, pressed up against the back of the couch with Will curled up in his arms. The lights were off, and the movie they were watching had finished and was rolling through the end credits.

Alistair moved the damp cloth on Will’s forehead up a bit to feel his forehead. It would seem his fever had gone down, but he was still warm.

Will breathed out a sigh, and shifted in Alistair’s arms. His eyes cracked open, and he gazed up at Alistair blearily. “Hey Ali? Aren’t you worried about getting sick?” He murmured in question.

Alistair only smiled, and traced a finger up Will’s side. He rested his chin on the shorter man’s head. “No. And if I _do_ get sick, then you’ll just have to take care of me.” At this, he gave a wicked smile, dipping to peck Will on the lips.

Will laughed, and wrapped his arms around Alistair’s mid-section, burying his face in his chest. Maybe being sick wasn’t so bad after all.


	8. NedGreen - Twister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Netherlands x Greenland
> 
> At America’s New Years party, the nations play Twister to pass the time.

Chapter 8 - Netherlands x Greenland  
Twister  
It had been America’s suggestion, and therefore, he was to blame.

It was still a couple of hours til midnight, and the nations at the New Years party were all looking for something to pass the time, and America had suggested they play Twister.

So, he and Canada brought out several mats and taped them together to create one huge mat. At the beginning, twenty-four nations had been playing, but that number quickly dwindled down to seven. 

Luxembourg, Finland, Iceland, and Thailand were to one side of the mat. Netherlands, Greenland, and Hutt River were nearer to the other.

When Thailand went to move his left arm to a red space, he fell, taking down Iceland and Finland with him. The three nations took a few minutes to disentangle themselves and cleared off of the mat. Now alone on his side of the mat, Luxembourg gave the last three nations a smile, winked to his brother, then left the mat.

It wasn’t long before Hutt River’s arms gave way, and he collapsed. That just left Greenland and Netherlands. 

Sierra looked over to the Dutch nation, a smirk on her lips. She had no intention of losing, and she hoped Netherlands knew that.

“Left hand blue.” Seychelles, who was holding the spinner, called out. The two remaining nations both moved, shifting and shimmying in an effort not to fall.

Greenland was now in a plank position on her hands, and Netherlands was positioned with his legs beneath her, with his chest facing toward the ceiling, one hand on a dot beneath him and the other stretched out towards the other end of the mat.

Greenland was determined not to lose. But they’d been playing for nearly an hour, and her limbs were quickly becoming tired; surely they would give out on her soon.

“Right foot green.” Seychelles called again.

Greenland stretched out her leg towards the dot, feeling her thigh strain as she did so. She winced, and her leg trembled. She could only yelp as her sock slipped on the mat, bringing her down onto Netherlands’s midsection and making them both collapse.

Her limbs were tired and achey. Greenland couldn’t will herself to move off of Netherlands, and the two of them just laid there for a long moment. Greenland assumed Netherlands was feeling the fatigue, too, seeing as he made no move to push her off of his stomach and chest and didn’t bother asking her to move.

Seychelles giggled at the two nations, and laid down the spinner. Next to her, Monaco had her phone out and pointed towards the two nations. When Seychelles peaked over at the phone, she saw that Monaco was taking pictures of the two nations on the mat. 

“Oh, I’m never going to let Sierra live this down.” Monaco chuckled, an awfully mischievous gleam in her eye and her glasses glinting in the reflection of light from a nearby lamp.

Across the other side of the room, watching the two nations on the mat, stood Norway and Denmark.

Denmark looked unusually annoyed. “I love Lars and all,” he was saying to Norway, “but if he doesn’t separate himself from Sierra right this instance—“

Norway cut the Dane off, waving a dismissive hand through the air. “Calm down. You’re overreacting, and besides...it’s just Twister, right?”


End file.
